


Anyway, Here's Wonderwall

by F00T



Category: Professional Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: Awkward Crush, Fluff, Gift Giving, M/M, Pining, Song: Wonderwall (Oasis), Songfic, Tsundere El Desperado
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21634225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F00T/pseuds/F00T
Summary: El Desperado gets stumped trying to think of a good present that will impress Zack Sabre Jr.
Relationships: El Desperado | Mikami Kyosuke/Zack Sabre Jr.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29
Collections: NJPW Winter Gift Exchange 2019





	Anyway, Here's Wonderwall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moiself](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moiself/gifts).



> I don't know how I took an extremely mundane fic exchange assignment and turned it into this nonsense but I want to believe it's only the bare minimum of cursed. Sometimes these things just happen.

“So why do you need my input on this again?”

El Desperado groaned loudly into his cell phone. The rational part of his brain had known all along that Taichi wouldn’t be helpful but that still hadn’t stopped him from asking. The only person who spent more time with Zack than Taichi was the Boss himself and there was no way in hell Despy was going to bother him with silly questions. Taichi was his best option, even though he sucked.

“Because you hang out with him all the time! Fuck, man, you’re doing tag league with him right now! Has he mentioned anything he wants for Christmas?”

Taichi laughed. “You think we just discuss that sort of thing? Of course he hasn’t mentioned anything. He’s not difficult to shop for so I don’t know why you’re making a big deal out of this.”

“You don’t think anyone is difficult to shop for because you give everyone garbage,” Despy grumbled, thinking back on all the terrible gifts he had gotten from Taichi in the past. He was still a little salty about the year when Taichi hadn’t even tried to hide that all his Christmas gifts to his teammates were just an excuse to clean out his kitchen. Despy had received a jar of expired salsa and a plastic bag full of coffee grounds. 

“Hey now, Zack loved my gift last year!”

“You gave him a squash that looked like a dick, dumbass.”

“Yeah, and he thought it was hilarious,” Taichi said. “And then he made curry with it and gave me some. For not having any meat, it tasted really good. You know what he likes, just get him something like that.”

“I don’t want to just get him something he likes, I want to get him something he wants. It’s different.”

Despy swore to himself that he could hear Taichi scheming through the silence on the other end of the line. “You like him, don’t you?” he finally said.

“Fuck off,” he growled. “I just...Zack’s really cool and I want him to think I’m cool too.”

“You’ve got a crush!”

“I fucking do not!”

“You’re in love with him and you should get your old guitar out and play for him. I’ll do a duet with you if you’re too shy,” Taichi said while trying to stifle his laughter.

“I’m not fucking serenading him! Besides, I don’t even have that guitar anymore,” Despy said, hoping Taichi wouldn’t catch him lying about that. He hadn’t paid much thought to his guitar since he stopped bringing it to the ring but he still couldn’t bring himself to part with it. He paid good money for that thing and it felt wrong to just pitch it, even though he could barely play.

“It’s a fucking guitar, how difficult is it to just get another one?” Taichi said. “Just buy a cheapass guitar, play him one of those songs he names all his moves after, and he’ll definitely give you a good hard dick-”

El Desperado ended the call and threw his phone hard into a pile of clothes scattered about his apartment. He hated to admit it, but Taichi’s dumb suggestion was still better than anything he had thought of up until that point. Still, playing a song for the guy he kind of-sort of-okay-maybe-definitely liked? It seemed hopelessly lame. He didn’t know what it would take to make Notable Cool Dude Zack Sabre Jr. think he was equally, if not more, cool, but he was pretty sure that serenading him wouldn’t do the job.

And yet.

He recalled every other idea he had for a Christmas gift for Zack. He had seen an awesome-looking jacket the week prior that he thought was his style...until he realized that it was leather. Did vegans wear leather? He didn’t want to risk it. Tickets to any sort of concert or venue had been ruled out immediately because it seemed too much like a date. Buying him dinnerl somewhere wasn’t an option for the same reason; he didn’t want Zack to think he was asking him out, per se, just that he wanted to spend time with him as friends, doing friend things. If Zack thought he was cool enough to warrant doing some more-than-friend things as a result? Even better. But the more he thought about it, every gift idea he had seemed less likely to result in Zack liking him. And Taichi’s dumb serenade idea? That seemed to be the least likely of all to get Despy the end result he wanted.

And yet.

He could see the guitar case propped up in his closet, teasing him. He was, admittedly, curious to see how much he remembered after going so long without playing it. Surely, this wasn’t the sort of skill one lost forever, especially since he had never been particularly skilled to begin with. It didn’t hurt to try.

Despy’s initial strums didn’t reveal so much about his decaying skillset; only that the instrument itself was now woefully out of tune. After several minutes of fiddling with the strings (he took it as a good sign that he at least remembered how to tune the damn thing), he worked his way through a few scales and basic chord progressions and tried to recall any of the songs he had taught himself years prior.

Despite knowing that he was definitely not going to be playing anything for Zack, he couldn’t help but wonder what Zack would think of his limited repertoire. Despy had once known plenty of songs in Spanish, but his attempts to play any of them now were shaky at best. The words were there and, after some guesswork, the chords were starting to come back to him, but the act of actually playing any of them was far beyond what his skill level had now deteriorated to. Besides, he thought, he didn’t know what the chances of Zack knowing any Latin music were, but he was pretty sure it was low. He felt the same way about the few Japanese rock songs he had taught himself once and now barely remembered. While he knew Zack talked about listening to a pretty wide range of genres, Despy couldn’t recall him ever mentioning liking any bands that weren’t American or European. A shame, he thought, since he barely knew how to play any songs in English.

One did come to mind, though. 

It was one of the first songs he had taught himself, mostly since the video tutorials he had learned from said it was easy enough. He worked his way through the first few bars, feeling slightly annoyed at how well it still laid under his fingers. He still hated the idea of serenading Zack...but if he couldn’t find anything else, this could be his absolute last resort. Besides, he thought, it was by a British band. Maybe it would remind him of home or something.

\-----

El Desperado never found anything else.

He muttered curses the entire walk up the steps to Zack’s apartment, his breath steaming through his hair against the cold December wind. The guitar case bumped against his thigh with every step, a persistent reminder of that he was actually going through with this. The only way, he thought, that this entire situation he had created for himself could get even more embarrassing was if the rest of the faction ever found out about it.

Despy hoped, after the third knock, that Zack wasn’t home and he could pretend like he never actually intended to follow through with this ridiculous idea but unfortunately, the door opened. He mumbled a terse greeting to Zack as he shuffled him and his guitar in out of the cold. No turning back now, he thought as his teammate offered him a seat and stood leaning against the wall across from him.

“Look,” Despy mumbled as he took the guitar out of its case and adjusted the tuning pegs, “this is supposed to be your Christmas present or something and you can’t tell anyone. Especially not Taichi. You gotta promise me you won’t tell.”

“Sure, mate. Whatever you say. Let’s hear this secret present of yours,” Zack smiled and Despy tried his best not to feel crushed by it. Surely, he thought he was the biggest idiot in the world, sitting in his front room with his shitty fucking guitar.

Despy strummed the first few bars, not making eye contact. He couldn’t bear it. Everything about this seemed too embarrassing, too juvenile. But he couldn’t stop now. This, he figured, was his penance for not being able to think of any good gifts for the coolest guy he’d ever known. This was his offering to a universe that made Zack Sabre Jr. and had made him talented and smart and witty and respected by the Boss and everything else that he wanted to be and knew he wasn’t. He didn’t deserve to be in Zack’s apartment, on Zack’s couch, doing something he knew would earn Zack’s ridicule. But now he was here and he had to see this through.

But now he was stuck singing for him.

“Today is gonna be the day that they're gonna throw it back to you,” Despy muttered, taking a few words to find the right key. “By now you should've somehow realized what you gotta do. I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do, about you now.”

Zack snorted. Despy tried to ignore it. 

“Backbeat, the word was on the street that the fire in your heart is out. I'm sure you've heard it all before but you never really had a doubt,” he continued to sing, his voice cracking slightly when he looked up and saw how hard Zack was trying to stifle his laughter.

“Look, I know I suck but at least I’m fucking trying,” Despy said, stopping abruptly.

Zack smiled. “Sorry...sorry, man. You’re right. You came all the way out here to play your song.”

“And all the roads we have to walk are winding. And all the lights that lead us there are blinding. There are many things that I would like to say to you but I don't know how,” Despy couldn’t help but glare at Zack as he sang, the frustration in his voice growing more and more prominent as he watched his teammate try in vain to take this all seriously. He paused before continuing onto the song’s chorus and Zack gestured for him to continue.

“Because maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me. And after all, you're my-”

He was cut off by Zack’s inability to hold back his cackling any longer.

“Fuck, I knew this was a stupid idea,” Despy grumbled.

Zack caught his breath. “No, the idea was fine. It’s just...Wonderwall? Really?”

“You don’t like Oasis?”

“Like them? They’re absolute rubbish!” Zack laughed even harder.

“Well excuse me for thinking you’d appreciate your fellow countrymen,” Despy said. “Merry fucking Christmas, I guess.”

“Appreciate them, ha! Trust me, we’ve been appreciating them every single time a guy shows up in a public space with a guitar. Covering Wonderwall is like the biggest musical cliche in the book!”

“Sorry for not being up on my music cliches!” Despy sneered. “I haven’t played in a while and I can only remember so many songs.”

Zack grinned at him. “So you know other songs then? What else?”

“Why should I tell you now?”

Zack crossed the room and sat next to El Desperado on the couch. “Look, I’m sorry for laughing at you. That was rude, even if Wonderwall is the first song every guy learns once he gets one of these things,” he said, patting the body of his guitar.

Despy could feel Zack’s thigh brush lightly against his own and his face started to grow warm. He shook his head, hoping his hair would cover his face enough that Zack wouldn’t see.

“No really mate, I’m sorry! I swear!” Zack said. “You did something nice for me and I do appreciate that. But now I’m curious what your backup songs were.”

“...you know any Radiohead?” Despy said quietly.

“Bloody hell, it’s Creep, isn’t it?”

“It’s not fucking Creep.”

Zack smiled at him. “Missed opportunity, that. It’s kind of a cliche too, but I like it. An absolute guilty pleasure right there.”

Despy had never regretted anything harder than he did in that very moment, recalling that he had decided against Creep because it came far too close to every feeling he had ever felt about Zack and, god forbid, he preferred to go with something a little more subtle. He had already felt awkward for falling back on a serenade as a gift; he didn’t need his choice of song lyrics shaming him as well. But with the knowledge now that Zack actually liked that one? Despy wanted to melt into that couch from sheer humiliation.

“I should go,” Despy grumbled as he started to pack up his guitar.

Zack draped an arm around his shoulder. “No, stay for a bit,” he said. “I mean, I’d like it if you did. You’re already here and it’s cold out. Besides, I, well...I didn’t really have time to do presents for anyone this year. Let me at least put some tea on for you. Or coffee, if you’d prefer.”

He could feel his back tensing under the weight of his arm. “Coffee’s fine, I guess,” he said.

Zack grinned and gave Despy’s shoulder a firm squeeze before retiring to the kitchen to boil some water. He could feel the sensation of his touch lingering through his clothes. He knew it meant nothing but it still felt like a consolation prize, as if Zack felt obligated to give him something in return for putting in the effort and still making a fool of himself. 

“Maybe not doing presents is the right idea,” Despy said. “Then you never have to feel like shit for getting the wrong thing.”

“Are you kidding?” Zack shouted from the kitchen. “You put in the time and effort into thinking about what I’d like and you did something for me! Yeah, it may have been a bit silly in practice but it’s still something. It can’t feel any shittier than not having anything to give in return!”

Despy cursed himself for letting his teammate hear him. “That was barely a gift though, you don’t need to give me anything,” he said.

“It’s still something! And I laughed at it on top of not having anything to reciprocate with! If anyone should feel bad right now, it’s me. Not you. You should feel proud, if anything, just for putting yourself out there like that.”

Despy snorted. He had to admit that the praise felt nice though.

“Tell you what,” Zack said as he returned with two mugs of coffee. “Let me take you out to karaoke or something. My treat. I’ll queue up all of my favorite songs and you can put on all of yours. If you want to, I mean. And no laughing, I promise. It’ll just be two friends, sharing some drinks and the stuff they love.”

“I didn’t realize you sang,” Despy said before taking a tentative sip of the coffee. It was still too hot and far more bitter than he’d like, but just having it made him feel a little more comfortable. Perhaps coming out here wasn’t quite as big of a mistake as he thought.

“I don’t, not really,” Zack said. “I’m bloody awful. But I’m still better than a fucking Gallagher brother.”

“I can’t believe you’re bad at something.”

“I’m bad at loads of things! Singing especially! Trust me, you’re way better at it than I am and that’s pretty damn cool.”

Despy knew Zack could see him smile at that. Maybe he could see the blushing as well. He didn’t really care. Zack Sabre Jr. thought he was cool.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, Despy, but Wonderwall isn't exactly a subtle representation of your feelings either.


End file.
